Irony
by catzlovecheeze
Summary: Foxy had always been his favorite. Oneshot.


The metal is cold against his hands as he pulls the door open, the still, cold night coloring his pale face rosy. He steps into the pizzeria at 11:45 PM, the carpet muffling his steps as he makes his way to the back office. His fourth night; only two more days before he would leave the place forever. The thought almost makes him sad; the place is familiar to him. He had many a birthday party here as a child. He remembers the first time, on his ninth birthday. He smiles, turning his head up toward the darkened ceiling lights as he walks down the halls.

He pauses outside pirate cove, turning his head to look at the curtain, hoping, perhaps, that today they had brought someone in to fix the pirate animatronic, Foxy. But the small out-of-order sign still stands before the closed purple curtains, making him sigh, casting his eyes down at the carpet. Foxy was always his favorite, ever since he first saw him at nine years old. But since childhood, he hadn't seen him once; the animatronic always seemed to be out of order. In fact, from what he heard, the animatronic had been out of commission since the "incident" in 1987. Probably for the best; if it presented a danger to the children, it should be shut down.

But yet, it would be nice to see him working once more before he left. He sighed, thinking back to what about the fox had captivated him in the first place.

As a child, his parents had been…protective. He had been reported missing once when he was seven after leaving the block – and his mother's line of sight – while riding his new bike. He had ridden back around the neighborhood loop to see cops outside his house, something burned into his mind from the shock, the fear that something awful might have happened. He was surprised to learn he was the cause of the uproar.

He tried not to wander off as much after that. Still, his mother hovered about him much of the time. He knew it was out of love, but still, he yearned for independence.

When he lay eyes upon Foxy, he found not only that, but also kinship.

The tough-talking fox fulfilled every ideal he had of independence. With his "yars" and "hars" amongst his talk of sailing the seven seas, he captivated the imagination of a young boy who lived most of his life in his boring hometown, his only adventure coming from the eight-bit graphics of Zelda for the NES or from books. If school had taught him anything, it was that books were for nerds, and he could only kill so many moblins before setting down the controller and dreaming of something greater, watching the clouds go by wistfully.

The fox fit every ideal of the independence which he wanted so feverishly.

But something about it still seemed…trapped. So much like he felt. As if the freedom the pirate boasted about was actually what he was denied. He felt a kinship with the robot, along with a strong admiration for him.

Freddy Fazabear's was his favorite restaurant from then on. And Pirate Cove his favorite place in the restaurant. His mother used to laugh and ruffle his hair, saying she never had to worry about losing him in Freddy's, because he was always in Pirate Cove. It was the truth; the main stage didn't interest him. Neither did Freddy's in general, after he found Pirate Cove closed when he went there for his twelfth birthday and the animatronic was out of order. He remembered the crushing disappointment that not even getting the Super Nintendo System for his birthday could take away; to him, the pirate brought more excitement than any adventure game ever could.

That was why he now stood outside Pirate Cove, smiling wistfully in the dark hallway.

Foxy had always been his favorite.

Maybe the rumor about the animatronics roaming about at night was true, he thought, heading down the hallway once more. He hadn't seen more than a bit of rolling around from the main three on the first few nights. It might be nice to see his fox friend up and moving one more time before he had to leave, he thought, smiling as he stepped into his office as the clock hit midnight.

What unfortunate irony, he thought, as his shaking hands hit record and lifted the phone to his face.

"Hello, hello? Hey! Hey, wow, day 4. I knew you could do it." He flinched at a particularity loud bang on the door, continuing his message. "Uh, hey, listen, I might not be around to send you a message tomorrow," he said, glancing down at his power. 16% at 4 AM, and going faster now that Foxy – his favorite, his idol, his Foxy – was banging on the door.

Trying to kill him.

"It's-It's been a bad night for me here."

Catz: Foxy is my favorite, too.

I was gonna do something with the main character reflecting on his memories of Foxy as a child, but then I remember Phone Guy saying Foxy was his favorite in the second game. I thought it was kind of sadly ironic that he got killed by his favorite. He sounded really happy talking about Foxy being his favorite, too. Poor Phone Guy…

Review!


End file.
